The Youth of Jefferson: Or, a Chronicle of College Scrapes at Williamsburg, in Virginia, A.D. 1764 — John Shaqi
The Youth of Jefferson: Or, a Chronicle of College Scrapes at Williamsburg, in Virginia, A.D. 1764Cooke, John Esten
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The Youth of Jefferson: Or, a Chronicle of College Scrapes at Williamsburg, in Virginia, A.D. 1764
Cooke, John Esten
Jefferson, Thomas, 1743-1826 -- Fiction
"Who said I was a hermit? I am surrounded with friends! Ned Carter
comes and smokes with me until my room is one impervious fog, all the
while protesting undying friendship, and asking me to write love
verses for him. Tom Randolph is a faithful friend and companion. Stay,
look at that beautiful suit of Mecklenburg silk which Belle-bouche
admired so much--I saw she did. Tom gave me that--in return for my new
suit of embroidered cloth. Who says human nature is not
disinterested?"
"Cynic!"
"Yes, I would be, were I not a Stoic."
"You are neither--you are an Epicurean."
"Granted: I am even an Apician."
"What's that? Who was Apicius?"
"There, now, you are shockingly ignorant; you really don't know what
_apis_ means in Sanscrit--bah!"
"In Sanscrit? True; but in Latin it is--"
"Bee: I'll help you out."
"Very well, you are an _Apician_, you say: expound."
"Why! do I not admire Belle-bouche?"
"I believe so."
"Pretty mouth--that is the translation?"
"Yes."
"A mouth like Suckling's lady-love's--stay, was it Suckling? Yes: Sir
John. 'Some bee had stung it newly,' you know. Well, Belle-bouche has
honey lips--a beautiful idea--and bees love honey, and I love
Belle-bouche: there's the syllogism, as you tiresome logicians say. Q.
E. D., I am an _Apician_!"
Jacques stands astounded at this gigantic philological joke, to the
great satisfaction of his friend, who caresses his sandy whiskers
with still greater self-appreciation.
"Now call me Sir Asinus any longer, if you dare!" he says; and he
begins chanting from the open book:
"Saltu vincit hinnulos,
Damas et capreolos,
Super dromedarios,
Velox Madianeos!
Dum trahit vehicula
Multa cum sarcinula,
Illius mandibula
Dura terit pabula!"
"Translate now!" cries Sir Asinus, "and bear testimony to my worth."
Jacques takes the book and reads over the Latin; then he extemporizes:
"In running he excels
Doctor Smalls and antelopes;
Swift beyond the camels.
Or Midianitish proctors.
While he drags his dulness
In verse along his pages,
His asinarian jaw-bones
Make havoc with the rhymes!"
Having modestly made this translation, Jacques closes the book and
rises.
Sir Asinus tears his hair, and declares that his friend's ignorance of
Latin is shocking.
"The ordinary plea when the rendering of disputed passages is not to
our taste," says Jacques. "But I must go. By the by, the worthy Doctor
came near seeing you in the Governor's chariot."
"It was more than he dared to recognise me," said Sir Asinus grandly.
"Dared, eh?"
"Certainly; if he had bowed to me, I should have cut his acquaintance.
I would have refused to return his salute. I carefully avoided even
looking at him, to spare his feelings."
"I appreciate your delicacy," said his friend; "you commenced your
system even at Shadynook. Did you win any thing from Fauquier?"
"How did you know we played?"
"Why, returning past midnight, I saw lights."
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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